


Game On

by dustandroses



Series: The Games Men Play [7]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Cooking Tsunami, Humor, M/M, Strip Scrabble, smutfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-08
Updated: 2010-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 00:16:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustandroses/pseuds/dustandroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel sets the bar, and Jack has to decide if it's worth it to him to accept the challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Game On

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by Ozsaur, my hero and shit.  
> Thus story was first posted on November 26, 2008. 
> 
> The series is now complete.

  
"Studmuffin."

"What?"

"It's a word."

"Jack."

"Hey, if you can use autoerotic, I can use studmuffin. And don't give me that look. I know it's a slang word, but it's in wide use around the world, so it counts."

"I think it might actually be hyphenated…"

"Not according to the Urban Dictionary. I looked it up. I think you're just pissed off because I'm beating you."

"You are not! Besides, you're cheating. At Scrabble, of all things. I can't believe I'm doing this."

"What? I thought you wanted to play Scrabble. You like it better than poker, right?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"You just don't want to admit that you're playing strip Scrabble and losing to me."

"Well, if you'd follow the rules."

"I know the rules. You have the right to challenge it. If not, lets get on with it, shall we?" He sighs and I know I've won. I rub my hands together briskly. "Triple word score. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it." I grin widely at Daniel as he picks up the notepad and tallies up my score. "So let's see it!"

"See what?" He's distracted, but there's a faint smile at the corners of his mouth. He glances up at me, batting his eyes innocently, but I know better. There's a wicked grin lurking under there somewhere.

"You know what! I want to see some skin. C'mon, take it off!"

Daniel's 'what I put up with for this man' look is a classic, but I get what I'm asking for when he grabs the bottom of his t-shirt and slowly peels it up and over his head. My admiring glance – well, okay, maybe that was a leer – makes him smile shyly and I can't tell you what that does to me. His smile can turn me inside out every time. I've always been wrapped around his little finger, no matter how much I protest it, but this is different. I realized it last night. I'm in love with Daniel and probably have been for some time. I don't have any idea what I'm going to do with that and the thought frightens the hell out of me, but there it is.

Daniel drops his t-shirt into the pile of clothing and shoes we've discarded beside the coffee table. We started the game out slowly - only our shoes and socks are in there, as well as his blue button-down. I'm two up on him now...I didn't start with as much clothing as he did, and I still have my shirt. So okay, maybe I slipped a couple of extra tiles into my pants pocket - he's a linguist, I'm working under a handicap here. Besides, what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?

He gets out of his armchair and steps in front of me. His smile is slow and sultry as he links his fingers with mine and slides onto the couch, his knees bracketing my hips, the way they did just a week ago, when we first started this thing we have going between us. Our kiss is playful and we laugh into it, nipping and licking and just being silly. Slowly we deepen it, opening up and letting each other in. God, but Daniel can kiss.

I love the slick feel of another tongue sliding against mine, tangling and coiling together, exploring and experimenting. I'm not at all surprised that a talented linguist such as Daniel can really make that tongue of his work for him. Kinda makes me wonder how he thinks I stack up in that category. Now might be a good time to remind him of my own talents. Don't want him to think he's got the advantage, here. Just because we've changed playing fields doesn't mean I'm about to hand the game over to him without a fight.

I start teasing his nipples with my fingertips, pulling on them gently, while I slide my other hand up and wrap it around the back of his neck; that way I can rub my thumb across the sensitive spot I found on our first time together. That goes over really well. He moans and his head falls back and he bares his throat to me. Nice. His tanned skin is warm and slightly salty against my tongue, and I concentrate on the vampire spot for a moment; I can feel his heartbeat through the skin. I only quit when I realize I might make a mark Daniel would find hard to hide.

Reluctantly, I move on to his collarbones and trace the thin skin there before sucking on it up near one shoulder, pulling it into my mouth and worrying it gently with my teeth. I slip my hand around from his back to play with his nipples, softening them up for my next assault. By the time my mouth gets to them, they're already crinkled up and hard, sensitive enough that just sucking one into my mouth has Daniel crying out and arching, his hand going to my neck to hold me in place.

But I don't pay any attention to that, switching back and forth between them and using just enough of my teeth to make him growl, deep in his chest. Oh, that's nice. I can feel it vibrate through me and I press my face into his chest so I can get the full effect. Damn. He's such a natural lover. He doesn't have to even try to make me fall tumbling at his feet. But I'm not giving up. I can make him want me as bad as I want him. I just have to concentrate my efforts.

I plan my next move. I leave his nipples red and swollen and move my way down. It's a little awkward, here, since he's straddling my lap, but my hands on his ass tell him where I want him and he kneels up to make it easier for me to attack his stomach. He's so sensitive there, his gasps let me know what's working, and I focus my efforts on his belly button, fucking it with my tongue while I work at opening his jeans with one hand, since the other refuses to leave that perfectly rounded ass of his.

It's hard to get his cock out with just the one hand; these jeans didn't look so tight when he put them on this morning. I grin around his navel, as I realize the reason he's squeezed so tightly into them is that his cock has swollen a great deal. I'm not being smug about it or anything, but I know I have talent in this area. It's one of the highlights on my resume. I've been complimented on my oral talents many times. Once I work his jeans past his hips, they're easier to push down his thighs and then I'm free to concentrate on the important things again.

I gently bite his belly, grinning at the sound of his moans, then go back to his navel. He rewards my efforts by painting the underside of my chin with his precome, the slide of his cockhead against my skin making my stomach clench in pleasure. I want that cock in my mouth. Now. The urge is overwhelming, and I throw all my plans to drive him crazy by avoiding touching it to the winds and just suck his cock in. His taste floods my mouth and I moan. So sweet.

Damn. I had this all planned out, and I was defeated by my own greed. He won the skirmish before he even knew there was a fight. How the hell am I gonna win this game if I can't keep my own libido in check? Well, there's nothing for it then; I have to go with the big guns, a simple oral offensive isn't going to be enough. I concentrate on his cock, rubbing that sensitive spot under the head with my tongue, following along the underside tracing that big vein, sucking for all I'm worth.

But while I've got my frontal assault going, I prepare my sneak attack on his unprotected rear. My hands have been doing the ground work for this offensive all along, kneading his ass cheeks, pulling them apart to let my fingers slip between, running them lightly along the crack. But I've avoided anything more than a glancing touch to the warmth between. I let one hand slip casually down his leg, and off to the side to pull the tube of lube from where I stashed it earlier between the cushions.

What? We were playing strip Scrabble, I expected we'd get to this at some point in the proceedings. I was a Boy Scout once, I'm always prepared. But Daniel derails my stealthy maneuver with a simple, breathless comment.

"That's it, Jack. Fuck my ass with your fingers. I want to feel you inside me when I come in your mouth."

I almost shoot in my pants like a schoolboy. Jesus. I fumble with the tube, refusing to give up my mouthful of cock to get the cap off. Besides, if I didn't have his cock to keep me gagged, there's no telling what I'd be babbling at this point. He can undo me with a single sentence. I'm better off not talking at all if it means revealing my weaknesses.

Finally, he relieves me of the lube and quickly opens it, squeezing a generous dollop into my palm. Thank goodness he's capable of concentrating, because I'm currently worried about whether I'll be able to keep my hands operating independently of my libido what with all my higher brain functions shutting down from arousal. I get my fingers all slicked up and slide one inside his ass, hoping he won't notice my shaking hand. Daniel doesn't need to know how easily he can break me open, that's my secret to keep.

He moans loudly, and slides his hands into my hair, not holding me in place, but kneading my scalp, and running his fingers gently through the short strands, letting me know how much he's enjoying this. And he'd better be. I'm going all out: sucking on his foreskin, pulling it forward over the glans as far as I can before releasing it to rim it with my tongue, flicking the tip into his slit then focusing on the bundle of nerves on the underside.

I work my way up to two fingers before I give in to his begging and decide to finally touch his prostate. I curl my fingers and give him what he's pleading for, and his reaction is so sweet. He's doing that babbling-in-foreign-languages thing again. I love it when he does that. I twist my fingers in his ass, rubbing fast against his prostate, and his hands tighten around my head as I wind him tighter and tighter.

This angle is all wrong for me. I realize that if I'm going to impress with my oral skills I need better positioning, so I let go of his cock for long enough to warn Daniel to hold on tight. I grab his ass in both hands, and tilt him backwards over the coffee table. He flails for a second, grabbing for my shoulders, shouting out my name as he reels, disoriented by the sudden change.

He slides several inches across the slick surface aided by the Scrabble board he's landed on top of, his upper body hanging off the far edge. The tiles scatter across the floor as I adjust my body to the new position, and I wonder how many L's are in fellatio as I swallow him down. He drops one arm to the floor and leans up on his elbow, his abdominal muscles quivering and jumping as he holds his head and shoulders up far enough to watch what I'm doing. I decide to give him a break and ease up, concentrating on the top half of his cock while I plan my big finale.

My head is bobbing up and down as fast as I can move it while I suck firmly, breathing through my nose. I shove three fingers inside him, and his head drops back, lolling and swaying with the movements of my head as he moans loudly. I take this as a good sign and go back to work on his prostate – circling and stroking and rubbing, never staying with the same rhythm for long to keep him from becoming too familiar with the pattern.

When I take his balls in my other hand and squeeze them gently, I can feel them pulling up against his body and I'm ready for the final assault. Taking a deep breath, I swallow him down to the root, his curls brushing my nose and making it tickle. I ignore that, and start swallowing rapidly, over and over again, and I can feel him lose control. His thick cock swells in my throat. I love feeling the way his cock pulses deep inside me as I milk him dry. Oh yeah. That's perfect. Just perfect.

After the last spurt hits the back of my throat, I pull back and suck the last of his come right out of him. I massage that big vein with my tongue, sucking gently now, pressing his cock against the roof of my mouth until he shudders and slowly pushes my head back. I lick the tip as it slips past my lips, loving the way I can make him groan once again, when I know he thinks everything is already over.

I sit back on the couch trying to calm my breathing; that's quite a workout for an old man like me. Then Daniel pushes himself up and slides off the coffee table onto his knees in front of me. It's a smooth, graceful move that's totally ruined by the Scrabble board getting caught between his back and the edge of the table. It flips up behind him, sending the letters that had managed to stay on the board flying through the air. He looks up startled, and we both break out laughing.

I see the appropriate letter tile about to be swallowed by the couch cushions and grab it before it disappears into never-never land. I flick it at Daniel's chest, and he catches it on the rebound and turns it over to see the imprinted F.

"How many L's in fellatio?"

He laughs as he drops it to the floor and grabs the S sitting there by his knee. "The same number as in swallow."

I grab the S out of his hand and wiggle my eyebrows at him like Groucho Marx. "Nice one. Personally, I'm fond of schlong."

"Hmmm. How about sodomize?"

I grin at that. It always makes me think of pirates. "Shag."

"Salacious."

"Oh. Big word. Schtupp."

"Stimulate."

"Stiffie."

"Sultry."

"Screw."

"Seduce."

"Smutty."

"Sadomasochist." That one makes me catch my breath.

"Scream."

"Scandalous."

Daniel's hands are on my knees now, kneading. I can feel the warmth of his hands right through the jeans. When he digs his fingers in just slightly above the knee, I jerk slightly. No tickling, dammit. So I shake my finger at him and say, in my best Father Knows Best Voice: "Spank."

He looks up at me through his eyelashes. "Surrender." We're beginning to build up a bit of heat here; I have to clear my throat before I can reply.

"Squirm."

Daniel licks his lips and says, "Submission."

My mouth goes dry. There's no other word I can say. "Shudder." Daniel's hands are slowly sliding up my thighs, his thumbs rubbing along the inseams of my jeans in the most erotic way.

"Squeeze." He demonstrates on my upper thighs, and the pressure makes my pulse jump. I have to think for a moment before I can continue.

"Stroke."

"Spasm."

"Slippery."

"Semen."

"Spunk."

"Spill."

"Spurt."

"Slurp."

I have to swallow before I can get the next word out. "Spread." I illustrate by moving my legs even farther apart. I can tell Daniel likes that one by the way his eyes light up as he stares at the bulge in my jeans.

"Suck." God, I don't know how he can make one word sound like a seduction. Daniel leans forward and rubs his palm over the heat under my zipper. There's only one thing I can say in answer to that.

"Sweet."

I lean back into the couch and smile with relief. I've been concentrating on Daniel so intently that I totally ignored my own erection. The release of the zipper makes me gasp as I finally notice how hard I really am. Obviously sucking Daniel's cock is an extremely erotic experience for me. Daniel smirks at me, just a little; I think he's pleased at how much his pleasure arouses me. He should be. This is entirely his fault, after all. As he pulls me out of my jeans, his smile becomes more wanton and he looks at my cock hungrily. That's nice.

Daniel wants this as much as I do, and that makes me very happy. He dips his head down, and licks off the precome that's already slicked up the head of my cock, slurping it down like a Popsicle. Nice. Not much technique yet, but I give him top marks for enthusiasm. I lift up my hips, shoving down my jeans, trying to give myself more room and cool off my overheated balls. He helps without letting go of his prize, so it's kind of awkward getting them down around my knees, but he's determined not to let go. Who am I to stop him from getting what he wants?

He's just started rolling my balls in the palm of his free hand when the phone rings. I groan loudly but when he slows down I urge him back to his task with my hands. The answering machine can grab it. It's my day off and I refuse to let him stop for anything less than an apocalypse. He gets the hint and gets back to business only to lift his head when he hears the general's voice on the line.

"Jack, I don't know if you're around, but if you are, there's something I need to run past you..."

I tilt my head back onto the couch and shout to the ceiling, "It's my fucking day off, here, General! Day off! I know it's a difficult concept and all, but it means no work. NO WORK. Are you listening to me?" Daniel pulls off my cock with a pop and I get up, struggling with my jeans which are wrapped around my knees. Daniel grins wryly as he helps me tug them up enough to allow me to stride over and grab the phone.

"General?" I'm a bit short of breath, but I can use that. "Sorry, I was in the other room," I lie blithely. "What can I do for you, sir?" My groin aches as I zip up my jeans, listening to Hammond explain the latest idiocy the Joint Chiefs of Staff have come up with to make our lives more difficult. It's not a life-or-death situation and that irks, but I understand the need he has to speak to me about it. He wants his second-in-command's thoughts before he calls the Pentagon back with his suggestions, and he has to call them back today.

I get some petty satisfaction from knowing this is supposed to be Hammond's day off too, but I do my best to keep my answers civil and use as much brainpower as I can scrape together to give my honest opinion of the new policy the Pentagon wants to instate. In the end, it all comes down to one thing: bureaucracy. At this rate, it won't be long before we totally disappear under all that endless paperwork.

I look up and realize that while I was talking to the general Daniel has taken off the rest of his clothing and is currently fishing for something in the couch cushions, bending over and showing me all of his assets as he does. I sit down heavily on the straight-backed chair by the phone, blinking rapidly, barely noticing the general making noise in the background.

"…so I told Davis we'd need more time, but he said the Secretary insisted…"

Damn him. How am I supposed to concentrate on Hammond when Daniel is looking so tempting right there in front of me? I squirm in my chair trying to make my still half-hard cock fit more comfortably in my jeans as he locates the lube we were using earlier and places it on the end table.

"Uh – right, General...Sir."

When he turns around with a smirk on his lips, I realize the game he's playing. He's intentionally distracting me, trying to keep me off balance by using my current situation with Hammond to his advantage. He stalks toward me, that sultry look that shows he means business gleaming in his eyes. Oh, shit. I'm in trouble now.

It's not like I need all my attention on the general right now. He's got my opinion and the final decision is up to him. But it's not like I can just hang up on him while he talks himself though it either. Not without revealing things that are best left unsaid. I could stop this game. Daniel would respect my decision if I insisted. But that would mean he'd won this round. I'd have to relinquish my lead and I'm not about to do that. So I take the plunge.

I look Daniel in the eye and slowly spread my legs, the hand not holding the receiver moving slowly up my thigh to rest casually next to my hard-on, inviting him to take his best shot. I can tell that I've surprised him. My smirk pisses him off; it's obvious by his determined look that he's taking me up on my challenge. Now I just have to keep my wits about me. This is not going to be easy, but I'm sure I can come out the victor.

"…and then he has the nerve to ask…"

I think I'm ready for anything when it comes to Daniel, but his first move catches me off guard. He turns his back on me – looking over his shoulder, his lips quirking in a slow grin – and leans over the back of the easy chair that just happens to be facing away from me. He spreads his feet, his firm, round ass pointing directly at my face, his balls swaying gently with his movement. Then he reaches back, grabs his ass cheeks and parts them, revealing his hole to me, mischief in his eyes as he looks back at me over his shoulder.

Holy crap.

Ambushed. He may be standing there in plain sight, but that's an ambush if I ever saw one. My mouth is hanging wide open. It's just a really good thing that Hammond is on a roll and doesn't need to hear me speak at the moment, because my mind is blank. I barely hold back a moan as Daniel slips one finger into his already slick hole and slowly sinks it all the way in. Then he just as slowly reverses the process until just the tip of his middle finger is inside and he moves it around in a circle a few times before he pushes back in again.

I hear my name tinny and small in my ear and it takes all my years as a special ops operative to break my concentration away from that sight and close my eyes long enough to realize that Hammond is still talking. I murmur appropriately for a moment just to make sure he knows I'm still there, then open my eyes again.

Daniel's been watching for my eyes to open because he's removed his finger. But as soon as I'm watching again he puts two fingers together and plunges them inside, swiftly and incredibly accurately for that position, and starts finger fucking himself with abandon. I slouch down a bit in my chair and spread my legs wider to give some relief to my cramped hard-on, then give myself a squeeze, trying to rein in my libido. But touching myself is not a good idea if I want to come in that perfect mouth of Daniel's, so I let go, cover the mouthpiece of the phone and do some breathing exercises to try and regain my control.

When Hammond actually asks a question that requires a response from me, I'm taken totally by surprise. I stammer a half-assed answer. It basically summarizes what I told him five minutes ago, but that's all he's really looking for – which is fortunate, since it's all my overheated brain is capable of at the moment. I can't take my eyes off Daniel. It's obvious that he's enjoying himself as much as I'm enjoying watching but, amazingly, he's being incredibly quiet. The only sound I can hear is his breathing, rapid and shallow, with occasional small grunting noises as he focuses on what he's doing.

It's one of the most overwhelmingly erotic things I've ever seen in my life.

I almost miss the moment when Hammond changes the subject to day-to-day operations, but I must have been doing too good a job of sounding engaged and unhurried, because he seems to be settling in for a longer chat. I realize with a shock that I now have to give him answers that make sense. Like any red-blooded male would do under the circumstances – I panic. Despite my determination to keep my eyes open for every second of the rest of this performance, I have to close my eyes again and concentrate. And that is my undoing.

"Yes sir, I know I said you'd have the report by last Friday, but…"

Suddenly, there's a hand on the zipper of my jeans. My eyes fly open and I stutter the rest of my sentence to the general, engrossed by the look on Daniel's face. He's moved directly between my widespread legs and there's a hot, determined look in his eyes as he watches his own hand pull down the zipper of my jeans. I sigh as the cooler air of the room hits my painfully hard cock.

He glances up at me, laughter in his eyes, waiting for my go-ahead before he touches me. Waiting for me to say no. Expecting that I'm going to capitulate. Well, he's in for a surprise. I can do this. I know I can. I arch one eyebrow at him, as arrogant as I can make it, silently asking what he's waiting for. I can take him. And he knows what I'm thinking, I can see it on his face. The moment he narrows his eyes I can tell he's not dropping the challenge. And the gloves are off. Time for round two.

Daniel's focus drops back to my open fly and he smiles as he pulls apart the sides and reaches in for my cock. It's dripping with precome already and he leans down and flickers his tongue over the head, gathering up the liquid in tiny little laps. My hand is gripping my thigh hard enough to hurt, but I manage to reply to Hammond's question with an "Uh huh." I'm guessing that is an appropriate answer, because he changes the subject again.

Fortunately the new subject is the deck the general is adding to the back of his house, a subject he's spent hours regaling me with in detail for the last several weeks: composite decking as opposed to timber, railings and weatherproofing, lighting fixtures and new deck furniture and whether he should go with a barbecue pit or stick with a portable gas grill. He can go on forever, and he has. Daniel says I'm just jealous, and maybe he's right, but at the moment all I can think is thank god, because I'm sure he's not going to need much input from me for a while.

"So he suggested I go with a hardwood, but my daughter says much of that is illegally harvested from the rain forests and she refuses to walk on it if I have it installed..."

Daniel's tongue is driving me crazy and I squirm around in the chair, using my free hand to pull down my jeans. Daniel gets the hint and helps before he heads back to his treat. He's got his tongue rolling around the head now, and my breath catches. This isn't gonna take long. I wonder if I can get the general off the phone soon because there is no way this is going to be a silent orgasm.

Daniel's sucking on the head of my cock now, rhythmic pulsing pulls while his tongue wipes heavily across the slit, and I realize this is something else I never taught him. An insane urge to grab his head and suspiciously interrogate him on the source of his knowledge hits me like a slap across the face. I force it down, shocked at the intensity of my jealousy. I'm gonna need to keep a lid on that. I can't concentrate on it anyway, not right now. Between the general talking my ear off and Daniel blowing my cock and my mind, I've got my hands full.

I almost lose my cool when Hammond asks about my gas grill and I have to dredge up facts to back up my mostly incoherent mumblings. But I send the ball back into his court when I ask if he prefers stonework or brick for the pit and Hammond takes the ball and runs with it. Which is a very good thing, because Daniel is getting rather good at multi-tasking. He's got one hand up under my shirt running his fingers through the hair on my chest and the other tracing the hollow between my thigh and my groin, tugging on my hair and causing bright little pinpoint pains that surprise me, but add to the intensity.

When Daniel grabs my left nipple and gives it a sharp twist, I gasp out loud, and Daniel's head comes up off my cock, his eyes wide with shock at my gaffe. I grab the opportunity that I've just provided myself and tell the general that I've just realized I had lunch on the stove and I'm smelling smoke so I have to hang up now. Hammond ends the call with a laugh: "Go put out the fire, Jack."

"Yes sir, I'll do that right now." I drop the phone in the direction of the table, and finally, "Thank god!" I'm free to make all the noise I want. I grab Daniel's head and push him back to my cock with a loud groan.

He gets the hint and goes to work, sucking hard, his cheeks hollowed out and one hand jacking off the bottom half of my cock. His other hand goes back to my nipples, tugging at them and twisting. Then he starts to hum and I'm gone. My eyes roll back in my head as I start to shout wordlessly, thrusting my hips up as best I can in my slouched position. My head falls back against the wall with a thump as I come, spurting into Daniel's mouth.

As Daniel pulls back and lets my cock fall out of his mouth, I collapse gracelessly, spread over the chair, limbs flung out like some rag doll that's been tossed in the corner. That's how I feel, totally boneless. He grins at me with a cat-that-ate-the-cream look and there's a smear of come at the corner of his bottom lip. Despite my breathless condition, I lean in and lick the come off, then lick my way into his mouth and suck my come off his tongue. Nothing has ever tasted so sweet.

When we finally part, there's only one thing I can say.

"'Hail to the Chief'?"

Daniel laughs and my heart, which was already light as air, takes wing and soars with his laughter.

"I wasn't sure you'd recognize that one, as busy as you were."

"Well, yeah, but 'Hail to the _Chief_'?"

He shrugs with a grin. "Seemed appropriate at the time."

We take a shower together, but it's very mellow. Washing each other slowly and thoroughly, but not with any salacious intent. Yeah, that is a good word. I'll have to work it into the next Scrabble game. We're just very relaxed and casual and I like it. And for some reason, that worries me.

We end up on the couch until late afternoon, challenging each other to more and more outrageous feats on the Xbox, then relaxing in front of the TV, watching documentaries on the wildebeest on Discovery, and playing Jeopardy with Alex Trebek. Daniel always beats the hell out of me on Ancient History and Culture, but I can trounce him in Sports and World Politics. Eventually, we end up spooned together on the couch, my arms wrapped around his chest as if they have always belonged there. It's just perfect.

Too perfect. So of course, my head starts coming up with all the reasons we've already discussed about why this is a really, really bad idea. Daniel's answers spin around them, pointing out his completely valid points as to why we work better than any other options, but I just can't sort it all out, anymore. How did I get myself into this? How did Daniel talk me into this? What the hell am I going to do about it at this point? I'm already so far in love with him that I can't think straight.

I find myself getting more and more tense and finally I just can't lie there any more. I need to move. I need to get some distance, and work this, whatever it is we're in here, out. Alone. Daniel's flipping through the channels and he pauses on some cooking show. Cooking. Good idea. I pat him on the chest and give him a little push to get him to let me up.

"I was thinking about a casserole for supper. It was Sara's recipe, but I got pretty good at it. Lots of vegetables, I know you like all that weird stuff. Why don't you sit here and watch TV or read or something while I fix it." I know I'm babbling, but I can't seem to stop it. "I know you're gonna like this one. It was always a hit when we did the potluck thing, you know? Everybody loves it."

I can tell Daniel is a bit hurt when I tell him I don't need help chopping vegetables or anything. I know he likes it when we cook together. But we've already done our traditional brunch and I really need some time alone. I just don't know how to explain it to him. I can't really even explain it to myself. Maybe some solitary time will help me sort myself out a bit. God I hope so. I hate letting Daniel down. It's like kicking a puppy or something.

But out here in the kitchen taking my frustrations out on the potatoes and broccoli and chicken isn't really helping any. All I can see is the way I always seem to hurt the ones I love. My whole family - I screwed up with Sara so badly that she finally had to leave me to get any peace. How can I possibly think that I can make things work with Daniel? How do I even know that Daniel wants to make things work?

Maybe he really meant it when he said he was just experimenting. What if I've managed to throw this whole wild ride completely out of proportion? Daniel doesn't love me. He just wants a comfortable, uncomplicated fuck. He's using me the same way I told myself I was using him. It's all just part of the game, isn't it? Get what you can and get out before things get too deep. Before you get your emotions involved. Before you can get too heavily invested in the future. Before you get hurt.

That's what I need to do. Keep my priorities straight. You play the game and when it starts to get too heavy you cut your losses and clear out. If we're careful we can do that. Keep our friendship and just let the sex go. Sure we can. It was nice while it lasted, but it's better this way. No one gets hurt if we quit now. I shove the casserole into the oven and slam the door shut. When I turn around, Daniel is standing in the kitchen doorway with a worried look on his face.

"What?" I don't mean to sound so defensive. I don't even realize it's going to come out that way until it's already said.

"Are you okay?"

"Who me?" I grab the cleaver and chopping board and start to clean up. I'm taken by surprise by the mess. There are bits of broccoli and chicken and carrots everywhere. I guess I wasn't aware of quite how vigorously I'd been chopping. That's what I get for cooking while I'm working out my issues, I guess.

"Oh, yeah. I'm just fine." I find myself waving the cleaver around for emphasis while Daniel eyes me warily. "Just dandy. You?" I drop the cleaver on the counter and totally avoid Daniel's eyes as I clean up the vegetable shrapnel I've scattered. Nope. Nothing wrong here. Not a damned thing.

"Well, I'm a little concerned, Jack." He sounds like he's talking a jumper off the edge of a building, or maybe an assassin into dropping his weapon. I can't imagine why. "You've been out here massacring your casserole for the last twenty minutes and I'm wondering what's going on in your head right now."

"Why? What should be going through my head? Did I miss something?"

"No, but I'm beginning to think _I_ might have. We went from lying on the couch, relaxed and comfortable, to you needing to mutilate innocent vegetables. You want to talk about it?"

"I think we're getting in a little deep, don't you?" I blurt out. I have no idea where that came from and neither does Daniel, if the look on his face is anything to go by. I try to stop my mutinous mouth, but it charges on without me. "I mean, I understand that you wanted to find out what it was like, the whole gay thing, that is. And I've done my best to show you the ropes, but if we keep this up we're gonna lose track of where the game ends and our friendship begins and that just leads to total disaster, you know? And I…"

"A game? Is that what you think this is? Us? Just a game. Just me doing a little experimentation?" Daniel laughs, and I personally take offense at that.

"Hey! I'm having a panic attack here and you're standing there laughing at me?" The smile on Daniel's face is relieved and full of humor. What the hell is going on here?

"Jack. Do you realize how long it took me to get you into bed? I've been planning this forever. Slowly chipping away at what I thought was your heterosexuality, planting the seeds of the idea that I wouldn't be averse to having sex with you. Do you know how pissed off I was when I discovered that you had already had sex with men and that I'd wasted months trying to wear you down when I could have been in your bed all that time?"

I'm having trouble focusing on this. "You planned this all along?"

"Jack." Daniel crosses to me, and puts his hand on my cheek. It takes every bit of effort I can muster not to lean into that hand. I don't want to get sidetracked at this point. I need to figure this out. So I focus on Daniel's words, and not the heat from his palm on my cool cheek. "We belong together. And you can play all the games you like, but that's not going to change the facts. I'm here now. In your life. Your love life. And I'm going to stay here."

I feel the loss when he moves his hand, but he's just reaching for my mine. His hands are so warm. I didn't realize how cold I'd been until he took my hands in his. "You're not going to push me out with your insecurities or your doubts. You're never getting rid of me. And that's a promise." There's a gleam in his eyes. That's his granite face, the one that says you can try and change my mind but it ain't happening, bud. He's pulled out the big guns on this one.

"You planned this?" Yeah, I know. I sound like a broken record, but this is taking some time to sink in. Daniel planned this whole thing.

"I did indeed."

"From the beginning.'

"I've been plotting for over a year."

"Subtle." I have to give it to him. This was a work of art.

"I'm good at subtle."

"I guess so. But Daniel, you know I've got a really bad track record of hurting the people I love…"

"You love me?" Daniel interrupts me with a broad, pleased smile.

Oops. I didn't mean to let that slip. "I didn't say that." I try to pull away from him, but he refuses to let go of my hands.

"Yes you did." He smirks at me. "Don't deny it. We both heard you say it."

"Well, okay, maybe I did say it. But it doesn't mean anything…"

"Yes it does. It means everything, Jack. I do too, you know. I love you."

"You do? Are you sure?" I finally pull away, crossing the room to lean up against the sink. I need to get a little perspective. I can't think with him that close. "Daniel, look at me. I'm not much of a prize, here. An old Air Force colonel with all the extra added bullshit a military lifestyle includes. I've got a bad back and busted knees. I'm old and cranky and set in my ways. I'm so full of issues that I'm thinking of putting up an addition to this place just to have somewhere to store them. I've screwed up every single relationship I've ever been in and most of them didn't have the added burden of needing to keep it hidden from the rest of the world."

"I know it's not going to be easy. We're neither one of us that good at long-term relationships. But Jack. We're good together. We can make it work. I know we can." He walks up to me with that sultry look on his face. The one I never knew he had until I took him to my bed. God, that's a good look on him. He slides his hand up my arm, and wraps it around the side of my neck, pulling me closer to him. "No more games. This is real. You and me. Got it?"

"No more games?"

He grins at me, stepping close enough that I can feel his breath on my face as he speaks. "Well, we can probably still squeeze in a game or two from time to time. As long as we remember that when the games are over we'll still be here, together."

"You and me."

"You and me."

I can't help the way one side of my mouth quirks up in a quick grin. "I think I like that."

I put my arms around his waist and pull him still closer. We're just a hair's breadth away from each other now, so I lean in and close the distance. Our kiss is expressive. As expressive as Daniel's eyes. As loving as Daniel's heart. I decide it's okay that I love him. After all, he loves me, too.

When we come up for air, I mention casually, "You know, we never finished that game of strip Scrabble."

"The pieces are all over the floor."

"And the couch, and the chairs, and under the table…"

"Hey, no complaining. You're the one who decided you had to have me on my back on the coffee table."

"I couldn't get a good angle on your cock where you were. And you definitely seemed to enjoy the deep throating, didn't you?"

"Good point."

"I could just strip you down right here and now."

"Oh, you think so?"

"Oh Daniel, I know I can." I take a step forward and Daniel counters to try and keep some distance between us. I kick something that skids across the floor. We both look down to see it bounce off the base of the cabinet and land at Daniel's feet. It's one of those damned Scrabble tiles, facedown on the linoleum. "Now how the hell did that get in here?"

Daniel looks up sheepishly. "I might have actually found it in the coffee cup by the couch before we took a shower." I can't help but laugh at that. "But I left it on the counter. You must have knocked it off while you were busy..." he glances around the room as if looking for survivors, "...chopping."

I look around the room at the disaster I've left in the wake of my cooking tsunami and decide a change of venue is in order. I grab his hand. "C'mon, let's take this back to the couch. But just remember the casserole has to come out in twenty minutes, tops."

When Daniel stops, it pulls me to a halt, and I look back to see him picking up the tile. He tosses it to me with a grin. I drop the S tile on the counter, shaking my head, and I hear him chuckle as he struts through the door, his look one of challenge.

"Get a move on, Studmuffin."


End file.
